Support
by lenniiee
Summary: To help another in spite of your own pain defines friendship in its finest. -Now a series of one-shots based on the friendship between the Detective and his Boswell
1. A hint of concern

**Support**

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock Holmes or anything associated with him :(

A/N ok, this is my first Sherlock Holmes fic, so I'd really appreciate reviews, hope you enjoy.

I settled into the warmth and the comfort of my armchair in the lounge, reaching for one of my yellow-backed novels, and sighed contentedly. I was relieved at finally being given the blissful opportunity of a moment's peace after hours of chasing down crowded London streets with Holmes after a group of forgers for my friend's latest client.

I was therefore quite taken aback when the voice of my friend sounded only a few metres from where I was sitting.

"I said Watson, how do you feel about dinner at Simpson's?"

My usual response to such an appealing request would of course be in the positive, but I hesitated in my reply at the thought of braving the ice cold air outside, and my old war wounds twinged in agreement.

Of course, this thought process only lasted mere seconds, but my slight hesitation did not go unnoticed by Holmes.

"My apologies old boy, I failed to realise how the current weather was affecting your old injuries…"

As usual, he replied to my thoughts before I myself had the opportunity to process them into speech, and I felt the corners of my mouth turn up into a faint smile. He knew me well, almost better than I knew myself really, and it still warmed me somewhat when he subtlety acknowledged this bond between us.

As per usual, I was too caught up in the inner monologue of my mind to realise that Holmes had been attempting to speak to me, and was now staring at me with furrowed brows and an expression which vaguely hinted at concern.

It was my turn to answer his unasked queries; "I'm fine Holmes, just tired is all. I rather fear I've overexerted myself during that chase from this afternoon. I'm sure I'll be back to normal after one of Mrs Hudson's usual stunning suppers." I gave him a quirk of a smile to reassure him further as I watched the glaze of worry dissipate from his cool, grey eyes.

"If you're sure." he replied thinly.

I suppressed a groan. I knew the usual behavioural patterns of my friend, one has to learn quickly when living with a man such as Sherlock Holmes, and his swift change of mood from a jovial, smug fellow, to one filled with melancholy with a distinct air of despair surrounding him were clear signs of the beginning of one of his famous 'black moods'.

His suggestion to dine at Simpson's was of course a way for him to continue his positive attitude for as long as possible before allowing himself to fall prey of the miseries of his deep, calculating mind, and I have gone and ruined his plans, leaving him to wallow in self pity and suffer in the claustrophobic atmosphere of our flat.

How selfish of me! I should have made the effort, staggering though it would have been, to keep my friend's demons at bay for just a while longer.

I turned to face Holmes, who was now slumped across his armchair opposite me, an eerily blank look dominating his features, and I then turned to the door; there was only one solution.

Rising to my feet slowly, though not as steadily as I would have liked, I walked over to the coat rack, plucked Holmes' coat and scarf from their hooks and threw them over the room towards Holmes, whilst donning my own attire.

Lifting the end of his scarf that was now draped over him from his face, he looked at me with a rather bewildered expression, (quite an endearing look on him actually), and I shot him a grin before saying in a light tone, "Hop to it man, I won't wait forever, and neither will the staff at Simpson's for that matter."

Holmes stood up slowly, at an even slower pace than I had, before walking over to me.

"You don't have to Watson, I didn't-"

I plucked the soft scarf from his unsteady grasp quickly and wrapped it loosely around his pale neck before indicating to his coat, successfully interrupting him and his rare argument about the state of my health.

Warily he did up his coat and looked at my with a stern face, although he knew I could see the fond regard dancing brightly in his eyes, so linking my arm with his, I lead him down the seventeen steps of 221B Baker Street into the cool evening air, comforted by the small smile playing across Holmes' lips and grateful for the support of his strong arm on my aching limbs, and with a much lighter heart than I had a few moments before, I thought with much anticipation of the enjoyable evening that was to be had in the company of my dear friend, Sherlock Holmes.


	2. Fresh humour

**Support**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock Holmes or anything associated with the lovable genius.**

**A/N I have decided to create a series of one-shots until I can figure out a decent plot for another story, and I would just like to say thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter and gave me the confidence to continue with this :)**

*Holmes' POV*

I was standing alone, staring out at the busy streets of London below our flat at Baker Street, trying to engage my whirring mind in the simple deductions surrounding the lives of the unaware civilians below.

_Owns a failing restaurant, married, having an affair with the young girl who works at the bakery_.

Such simple deductions, but if these thoughts were told to Watson, his eyes would widen in awe and admiration of my seemingly unflawless abilities.

_Watson._

So trusting and loyal, even after all these years… I know what kind of unnecessary pain I have caused him; waking him at ungodly hours of the morning merely because I was restless and in need of some form of stimulation, leading him into certain danger during cases, confident in the knowledge that he would be no more than a few paces behind me, and if I'm being honest to myself, I would prefer for him to remain so. He keeps my mind occupied and steady and I knew in my heart that I would be much the worse for wear without his constant 'mothering'.

It seems to me that one of the good doctor's greatest attributes is also one of his worst, and will undoubtedly lead to the end of him one of these days; this _need _of his he has to protect and preserve life, more specifically _my life. _I knew he would sacrifice his own life for mine in a heartbeat, probably faster in all probability, and this has been proven most effectively yet again, earlier this evening.

_We were at what Watson likes to so floridly describe the 'climax' of one of our cases; we had our quarry surrounded and were more than ready and able to capture and secure the devious criminal… but alas I found it necessary to fulfil that need of mine for a touch of dramatic flair, and so I began a rather shamefully condescending monologue, directly addressing the beast of a man in front of me so as to highlight my already strong disgust for his actions, his __**murderous **__actions._

_Therefore it was even more foolish of me to continue to pace around the man, gesturing calmly with my hands whilst explaining my genius methods of deduction which inevitably lead to his imminent capture._

_I was being careless._

_I was being cocky._

_I was being __**stupid.**_

_It shouldn't have been a surprise to me then when he suddenly pounced forward, pointing a gun at me threateningly. My mind was dazed and I didn't seem to fully grasp the gravity of the situation until it had been too late… until I heard the ominous sound of a pistol being cocked._

_A mere moment passed in silence before my dear friend had positioned himself defensively between myself and the offending weapon. I grasped his upper arm strongly, attempting to relay my silent warning._

_I vaguely remember the criminal ordering Watson to move out of the way, so that he could 'finish me off' as he had no real vendetta against my friend, but stubborn to a flaw he remained in front of me in stern denial of the murderer's request._

_The next part of the tale are somewhat hazy; in a flash, Watson had sprung towards the gun and knocked it out of the man's grasp, the gun clattering loudly against the solid ground, and soon both were tackling and rolling about the floor in a rather ungentlemanly manner._

_It was then that I decided to intervene and actually aid my heroic friend in the battle and to both our relief, it ended quickly with the murderer lying sprawled across the floor most definitely unconscious with a distinct swarm of bruises now covering much of his bared flesh._

My mind was quickly brought back to the present when the weary, slow-moving form of my friend entered the lounge without so much as a single sound. Only after he had firmly seated himself in front of the fire did I see it fir to converse with the clearly tired man.

"You look like you could use a stiff drink old boy." said I amiably, already pouring myself and him a generous glassful.

He smiled warmly at me as I handed it to him as I mirrored his position and sat in the twin armchair opposite. The subtle crease of pain across his forehead as he had reached for the glass had not escaped my notice and I frowned at him, _damn him and his untiring pride._

There was something else too that was bothering me, and had been for some time now and as I continued to gaze at my friend in concern, I realised that now was as good a moment as any to engage him in my uncertainties.

"Can I ask you something, Watson?"

"Of course." he replied quickly, almost in a reflexive action.

I paused for a moment to sort my thoughts before beginning, "We have been associates for over a decade, during which time I have abused your good nature considerably to aid my own purposes, pushed you to your limits and beyond and continue to ask too much from you on a near daily basis."

He nodded slowly with a small smile, an acknowledgment of these somewhat shameful facts and waited patiently for me to continue.

"Why?" I asked simply.

"Why what?"

"_Why_ have you remained so unwaveringly loyal all these years Watson? Quite plainly I fail to see what you have gained from such a friendship…" I trailed off into silence as I attempted to order the chaos of queries within my already troubled mind.

As I heard the familiar light chuckle of my friend, I turned to face him in some confusion; this was, in my point-of-view, a very serious matter which has long needed addressing, and I could not therefore understand how my friend had derived humour from the topic at all.

Being the analytical mind that I was, accompanied by a strong desire to acquire knowledge, I questioned him.

"My dear Holmes!" he exclaimed.

"I have gained plenty from our welcomed association during these past few years! As well as being given the prime opportunity to participate in the capture of some of England's most dangerous criminal masterminds, on an increasingly regular basis might I add, I have most importantly gained a dear friend who unknowingly or not, has fast become to resemble a brother to me."

At seeing my uncharacteristically blank expression of pure bewilderment, he began to softly laugh to himself, almost as if he were indulging in a private joke.

Still absolutely stunned, I struggled to form some kind of coherent response to such a heartfelt speech, so numbly mumbled; "Oh. Well then… That certainly is a weight off my already uneasy mind."

Our gazes locked and I feel that the utter feebleness of my reply elicited fresh humour to him as he burst into sudden laughter. Finding it annoyingly infectious, I joined him, until we were both gasping for breath in sheer joy.

He rose to his feet, in noticeably less pain than before and made his way over to the drinks cabinet and pouring us another glass of brandy.

With his back turned to me and his shoulders still shaking gently in soft amusement with a concentrated look upon his face as he endeavoured not to spill any of the amber liquid onto the carpet, I spoke to him quietly, "The feeling is mutual by the way, old boy."

**Ok so that's chapter 2, I'm still writing the other chapters inbetween revision for exams next week, so I apologise in advance for inconsistent updates but don't worry they are being written! **_**Slowly **_**but surely.**

**Another plead for reviews and advice ;) and also if you have a particular story in mind that you would like me to write, just mention it in the review or mail me and I'll try and work it into this series :)**

**Thanks again! x**


	3. The remains of sleep

**Support**

**Hello again, here is chapter 3 **_**finally**_**, I hope you all haven't lost interest in it :)**

**I would like to say a quick thank you to everyone who has reviewed the previous chapters in this series, and that I truly appreciate your comments.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock Holmes or his enchanting friend John Watson… still.**

A not-so-gentle nudge of my shoulder finally awakened me and my bleary vision cleared slowly to focus on the shining grey eyes of Sherlock Holmes, standing at the side of my bed staring down at me with an annoyingly joyful expression at such an early hour; and I knew that it was indeed early as there was no comforting ray of light peeking out from the gap in the curtains as there usually is in the mornings, no, it would have been pitch black had Holmes not had the _courtesy _to shine a lamp directly in front of my face.

"Holmes, what the devil is going on?" I muttered tiredly, feebly waving the lamp away from me so as to protect what was left of my retinas.

His answer was to throw my trusty blue dressing gown at me and his smile broadened at my expression of dismay.

"A case-"

"No, no, but it is of equal value to me. Don't dawdle now Watson, meet me in the sitting room as quickly as you can now." And I was left in total darkness once more as the light from the lamp followed his hurried movements down the stairs.

I sighed quietly as I stiffly rose to wrap the dressing gown around me, and made my way carefully towards the sound of clinking glass in our shared sitting room. I assumed that the clinking would be Holmes as he poured us each a glass of brandy, but as I made my way further into the room, I could see the form of my friend sitting with his back facing me as his hands moved eagerly over the various phials and tubes on his chemical desk.

His head snapped towards me suddenly, and I couldn't help but be alarmed at the clear signs of exhaustion that adorned his features; the dark circles under his eyes and the ghastly pale pallor of his skin.

I approached him warily, rubbing the remains of sleep from my eyes with the sleeve of my dressing gown, "Holmes what are you doing at-", I glanced at the clock on our mantle, "half past two in the morning..."

Before I had a chance to voice my complaints at being woken at such an ungodly hour, Holmes had risen and guided me by my elbow towards the chair he had just vacated. Reluctantly I sat down, and looked up at him despairingly, awaiting some kind of explanation.

He gestured excitedly towards the mess of equipment on his desk and as my tired eyes failed to focus on anything of importance, he spoke with an in exasperated tone, "The contents of this boiling tube is one-of-a-kind Watson, truly unique, and I implore you to hazard a guess at its purpose."

"Well I-"

"If you pour it over any surface," he interrupted hurriedly, "It shows any fingerprints that have tainted it in the last twenty four hours, and can also be used as a remarkably successful cleaning agent!" His eyes shone with pride and his very being seemed to glow in the light of his triumph, but I found my own expression resembling more of an aggravated scowl.

His smile seemed to falter slightly as he finally noted that I was not sharing in his delight, and as my weary eyes met with his, I spoke through gritted teeth, "You woke me up, at _half past two in the morning _to show me some kind of multi-purpose disinfectant?"

"Disinfectant? Well I don't know about that-"

"_**Half past two in the morning!?" **_I growled in disbelief.

I rose from the chair in one sharp movement and took a step towards him, his face seemed to drain completely of any colour that it might have once had, and I paused for a moment to try and calm my severely overstrained nerves.

I reached out my hand towards him, and he flinched slightly in anticipation of my strike, but as I rested it gently on his shoulder he breathed a shaky sigh of relief.

His shoulders were still tensed as I spoke to him in a tone much calmer than I felt was capable of me at the time, "Go to bed Holmes. You can show me the glory of your newly invented… concoction in the morning at an hour when I am much more likely to offer praise alright?"

I felt him untense at my words and smiled slightly at his resigned nod of agreement. I patted his now slumping shoulder one final time before beginning my limping shuffle towards the stairs leading to my bedroom, and my smile widened as I heard Holmes follow me quietly before offering me his arm to help support me up to my room.

I linked my arm through his and muttered a tired thank you as I attempted in vain to conceal a yawn; glancing at Holmes briefly my heart felt heavy at the expression of guilt that now covered his features and I longed for that look of shining pride that had dominated his being only a few moments ago, and I realised with shame that he had only called upon me at such an unusual hour because he wished to share his victory with me, and only me, and that he had felt comfortable enough in our friendship that my approval was needed on the instant, and that he desired my judgment almost as urgently as I require his during the trials of our cases together.

It was these thoughts that prompted me to cease our ascent on the staircase, and to face Holmes with the warmest expression I could muster, "It can show _all _the fingerprints within the past twenty four hours?"

His face once again lit up as a large smile graced his lips, and I couldn't help but mirror it, "Of course my dear Watson, of course, but I will show you the rest in the morning." and he began to lead me once again towards the comfort of my room, which I was having a difficult time imagining being as soothing as the feeling of Holmes' arm entwined with my own.

**Ok, I am sooooo sorry for the ridiculously long period between the last chapter and this one, but preparation between the exams annoyingly had to take priority :( but it's ok, because they're all over now and I actually have free time now *shock horror*.**

**So anyway, I'll try and update this within the next day or so, and reviews really would make my day :)**

**Lenniiieee xx**


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